The Feebas who refused to Evolve
by Is-Iz
Summary: She was destined to be a baker, like all the other women in her family. But she broke the tradition, while saving it at the same time and now aims to become a top Coordinator. Something that’s hard to do when you’re a suspected mass murderer!


**Hey guys,** welcome to the story! Okay, 'cause I wanted to get back into Fanfiction I decided that I'd write a Fanfic (makes sense, doesn't it?).

So, meet Brandie. Brandie is an RP character I have from the Pokemon Emerald RP (not related to the gameboy game Pokemon Emerald in any way). Therefore, this is a serperate region from Kanto, Johto etc and accordingly the places will have names that will seem ufamiliar.

Also, this is one of those stories that reveals itself over time, so don't worry if there's something you don't get or if something's missing.

Anyway, enjoy reading!

(PS Chapters will be short for a quick and efficient read ;] )

* * *

Ten was the traditional age, but it wasn't until Brandie was ten and a half that she had started her journey to become the absolute _best_ Coordinator in the far off Emerald Region. Something that she wasn't so sure she could do with a Pokemon like hers.

You see, the Pokemon she had picked up from the lab yesterday was a Feebas. Yes, she knew that one day it could evolve into Milotic - Brandie's ideal image of a contest Pokemon - but maybe it would be a lot easier if the Feebas wasn't so… sarcastic. And disagreeable. And rude.

She had saved it from a Spearow for crying out loud! And it still didn't treat her with any respect! Brandie didn't know if any other budding Coordinator's had the same problem, but for their sake she hoped that that was not the case.

There was no water around and it was dark enough to sleep. Brandie shook her head and declared, "He'd be a useless guard-Pokemon anyway," before picking her way around the meadow, looking for a soft, warm place to lie down in. She hadn't bought a sleeping bag (or any kind of bag really), but it was still the warm season, so all she needed was the sweatshirt that she had tied around her waist. Putting it on, she wondered if it was a month or two before the seasons would start to get cold.

The grass was comfortable and Brandie could easily fall asleep on it, but something still kept her awake, nagging on her mind. At first she felt vulnerable and unsafe out in the middle of the meadow - a problem she fixed by sleeping amongst taller grass - but then she started worrying about the grass being too tall. What if a big Pokemon ran her over in the middle of the night? And on top of all her endless worrying, she was starting to feel homesick and miss her bed. Nothing in the world could compete with her mattress and pillow. Brandie closed her eyes, trying to ignore all these thoughts and distract herself but she….

She woke up sometime around mid-morning the next day, realising that she must have fallen asleep at some stage. Brandie slowly rose and sat up on her knees.

"Sometime late," she guessed, because she usually was a morning person and rarely slept in this late. She checked her watch and her eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Ten o'clock!" she practically gasped. "I've lost three hours of travelling time!"

Luckily there was no time wasted in packing up camp because there was no camp to pack. Brandie just took off her sweatshirt, dusted her jeans a bit and patted down her hair.

_Bah, I can't wait to get to the closest Pokemon Centre,_ Brandie thought to herself, imagining a heavily exaggerated portrait of how rough she looked. Hair sticking out everywhere and her being completely covered in dirt… It was a pretty great exaggeration really, considering that there was no dirt around for her to have rolled around in in her sleep (she was sure that she must have done something like that during her sleep).

"I want a hairbr-"she started to complain to herself when she heard an unmistakeable squawk pierce through the mid-morning sky. Brandie's body nearly gave a shudder all over. It was a Spearow; most likely _that_ Spearow. She stood up and started to hurry off . Brandie could see the end of the meadow now that it was daylight. Hopefully the Spearow wouldn't notice her as she hurried as quietly as she could towards the end of the meadow.

Of course, when a ten year old hurries things only go smoothly when they are used to running the way she was. Brandie, although running as fast as she could, was no sprinter and was trying to avoid stepping on certain bits of grass that might make a loud sound (though she had no idea how to tell the difference between grasses, but it was all good fun anyway) so it was only expected that she tripped over. Hard.

"Ow…" she murmured, and tried to push herself up, but as soon as she had nearly accomplished doing that, someone else, in turn, tripped over her and squashed her back down on the ground. Flat and painfully.

"What was that for?" Brandie whined automatically, but her whine was nothing compared to what this boy could do.

"CHARMIIIIIIIEE!" he wailed, tears running down his face. He sat up now, on top of Brandie and continued to cry and sulk. Brandie wouldn't have minded him so much, and would have probably helped him at some stage, but he _was _sitting on top of her. And not moving.

It was something you didn't do when you wanted sympathy.


End file.
